


Worlds Enough for Some

by mariathepenguin



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Worlds, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-07 22:53:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariathepenguin/pseuds/mariathepenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The curse- it was never meant to be used on so many people. That, added to the effect of Emma’s magic breaking the curse, effectively sent a shock wave through all the copies of this world. It created fault lines where there were none.’</i>
  <br/>
  <i>‘And Emma fell right into one,’ Henry finishes.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>‘Was pulled into one,’ Regina corrects. </i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> Emma disappears, and Regina goes looking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worlds Enough for Some

**Author's Note:**

> Non-canon compliant for the whole of season 2 because I like to pretend that most of it didn't happen. The alternate world theory used here has been shamelessly lifted from Dianna Wynne Jones’ Chrestomanci series.

A pull, and Regina is gone.

The place she lands is dimly lit, save for a beam of moonlight coming through a high, small window. Something makes a sound behind her and she startles, holding her arms up.

A Regina is watching her from a small, uncomfortable looking cot. She watches her hungrily, and Regina stares evenly back.

Regina watches confusion and fear and understanding play across her face, subtle and well hidden, but not for someone who knows where to look.

‘You’re free,’ the other Regina croaks. Her voice grinds out of her throat. Unused. ‘They didn’t lock you up, where you are.’

‘No,’ she answers.

‘Good,’ the other Regina breathes.  ‘Good. Kill them for me,’ she adds. Regina has just glanced out of the window and caught a glimpse out of the clock tower when the other one makes her snap back to attention.

‘What?’

‘I killed her. The Saviour,’ the other one gloats. ‘You can finish them.’

She shakes her head minutely, already preparing to leave. The other one leans closer.

‘Why not?’

Regina opens her mouth to answer, but the magic takes her away before she can.

 

\---

 

She returns to her Henry standing in the same position that she left him in, however long ago she disappeared. He jumps up when he sees her and runs away from his grandparents, straight to her.

‘Did you find her?’ His voice is starting to deepen, ever so slightly, but it wobbles and wavers like it belongs to a much younger child as he looks at her.

‘No, sweetheart,’ she says. His face crumples in for a second before he takes a deep breath.

‘I’ll keep looking,’ she adds desperately, when it is clear that he cannot, will not speak to her anymore.

‘Okay,’ he says, distantly.

‘Henry,’ she says. She sits down in a nearby chair, partly to come down to his height and partly using magic this much, so soon after the curse has broken is taking its toll.

‘I said, okay,’ he says. It hurts her to watch him walk away from her, but seeing him try to wipe his eyes without anyone seeing him sends a new, sharp pain right through her newly repaired heart.

 

\---

 

_Three weeks ago_

_Henry is staring at her from his hospital bed, eyes blank and emotionless as she tries to convince him how much she loves him, when the ground begins to shake._

_‘Regina-’ Emma is still standing by Henry’s hospital bed, her hand protectively on his back. She looks more scared than Regina has ever seen her. ‘Something’s wr-’_

_Small pinpricks of light begin to appear all over Emma’s body, and Regina looks around for the source of the light before she realises that the source is Emma. She watches in mute horror as Emma becomes less person and more light, until it burns to bright for her to be able to keep her eyes open. When she opens her eyes, Emma is gone. All that is left is the acrid taste of magic, hovering where Emma had been standing._

_After another second of silence, the room erupts into chaos. Henry turns accusing eyes on her._

_‘What did you do?’_

_\---_

She tries again. And again. And again. And each time she lands in a different version of their world. Sometimes it is almost exactly the same and she leaves almost as soon as she arrives. Sometimes she stays to watch Snow kill her.

(not really her, she reminds herself endlessly)

She is hanged and burned and killed with arrows.

Once, Charming corners her in her mansion and throttles her to death.

Mostly, Emma tries to save her.

Sometimes, Henry loves her.

She watches it all, hidden with a simple cloaking spell. She watches, and waits for the flash of fire across her skin that will tell her that Emma is in this world.

Soon, Emma has been gone for three weeks and all Regina has to show for it is the memory of herself being killed in a thousand ways.

 

\---

 

_‘Tell us what’s going on.’ Charming is standing protectively beside Snow, and Regina makes a careful show of leaving her hands on the table. Henry is standing right next to her and she doesn’t want to start a fight._

_‘‘Emma’s gone,’ she says._

_‘We know that much,’ Charming snaps. ‘But where has she gone?’ She takes a deep breath. These people are the only reason that that the other townspeople have let her live. She is their only hope of bringing their daughter back, now that Rumpelstiltskin has disappeared._

_‘You know about alternate realities?’ she asks._

_‘I think our world jumping has told us more than we need to know about that.’ Snow looks sicker than she has ever seen her, and Regina allows herself that small, petty victory before she continues._

_‘No, not different worlds. Alternate realities.’ She is met with blank faces._

_What’s the difference? Henry asks, next to her._

_‘An alternate is the same world, but slightly different,’ she explains in a tone that is far kinder than the one she used with his grandparents. ‘A major event happens and your world splits into two. One where the event happened and one where it did not. The same place, just on a different path.’ He frowns._

_‘I don’t get it.’_

_She takes his hands in hers._

_‘Okay.’ She lifts his left hand. ‘This one is one world, like the one we are in now. And this one is fairy tale land.’ She squeezes his hands and he nods. She presses his hands together._

_‘Two separate worlds, both close to each other.’_

_‘But alternate realities – she pulls his hands apart and traces along the lines on the palm of one of his hands. ‘See how they split? That’s what happens when a big change occurs. You get two copies of the same place, with all the same people and properties. Just different stories.’ He nods again and pulls his hands away, tucking them into his pockets. She turns to face Snow and Charming._

_‘I broke into Rumpelstiltskin’s shop to look for more information, and I found it. The curse- it was never meant to be used on so many people. That, added to the effect of Emma’s magic breaking the curse, effectively sent a shockwave through all the copies of this world. It created fault lines where there were none.’_

_‘And Emma fell right into one,’ Henry finishes._

_‘Was pulled into one,’ Regina corrects. ‘Magic like hers- it’s like a magnet. Every alternate will pull her toward it. She has likely been dragged through quite a few, by now.’_

_‘So how many are there?’ Snow’s voice grates, as always, and she tries hard not to scowl._

_‘As many as you could ever count, and more.’_

 

 

Snow appears at her door one day, banging down the door as if she owns it. Regina pulls it open and scowls.

‘I just need to know that you’re really going to find her,’ Snow says, quickly, like she is expecting Regina to slam the door in her face.

‘I don’t have the faintest idea what you are talking about,’ she says. She leans against the doorframe casually and watches the panic play across Snow’s face.

‘Don’t. Don’t do that, please,’ Snow begs. ‘She is my _child_. I need her safe. I need you to tell me that you are looking for her.’

This is not the first time Snow has begged mercy of her, but it is the first time Regina feels an echo of her own pain in her face. She knows what it is like to lose a child.

‘I promised that I would get Emma back for Henry,’ she says finally. ‘I’m not going to break a promise to my son.’ Snow shakes her head dismissively.

‘It’s been weeks. And...’ Snow’s eyes dart to her face, beseeching and expectant at the same time. It sends a flare of irritation up Regina’s spine.

‘I am not just doing this for my son, Snow.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Breaking the curse effectively ripped this world apart. What effect do you think that will have on us?’ Snow looks at her mouth agape, before she understands.

‘This world-’

 Regina conjures a small fireball and lobs it lazily into the air. They watch as the air around it seems to stretch thin, before it snaps back and forms what looks like a wrinkle, almost like old skin.

‘I mean that there is a lot more at stake than my son’s happiness.’ She slams the door before Snow can say anything else.

 

\---

_How will you know when you find her?_

_I’ll know._

She wakes up crying,

In her dream, the curse hadn’t broken and Emma is under her apple, tree, laughing. Henry is laughing too.

Except it is not a dream- it has happened, somewhere in one of the realities that is currently bleeding into theirs. Somewhere, there is a place where Regina is happy with Emma, and the thought of that makes her bones ache.

‘There is most likely also a world where Leroy and I are happily married,’ she says out loud, to try to shake the helpless feeling that comes with having her control of her emotions taken away, but all that happens in that her words echo back to her in her empty room.

 

\---

 

She wakes up to a hand on her shoulder.

‘Mom.’

Henry is standing over her, peering anxiously at her face.

‘Mom, are you okay?’

She sits up and leans against the headboard. Her head throbs, and she presses a finger to her temple to try to ease the pain.

‘Henry... what are you doing here?’ She hasn’t seen him in over a week. He looks taller. She smiles at him, and purses her lips when a stab of pain flashes behind her eyes.

‘I just wanted to see what you were doing,’ he says. He perches on the end of the bed. ‘You don’t look okay.’

Regina realises that she is still in the clothes she wore the day before, curled on top of the covers. She smiles, to reassure him.

‘I’m alright, Henry.’ He eyes her with a suspicious look he must have learned from her and inches closer.

‘No you’re not.’ He has not lost the same accusing tone that he has used with her for the past year or so, but his eyes are sweeping up and down her face with what looks like worry. She does her best to make herself look more presentable, but she has barely slept since Emma disappeared, and she knows what she must look like.

‘Henry,’ she starts. He shakes his head, not listening.

‘You’re just going to lie to me,’ he says, strong and angry. ‘You always lie to me and now you’re going to leave and you’re still _lying_.’ His voice breaks on the last word, and her heart breaks with it.

‘Come here,’ she says, sitting up straighter. His eyes fill with tears, and he launches himself into her arms. He nestles into her in a way that he hasn’t done in a very long time and she hugs him gently to her and strokes his hair as he heaves gasping sobs against her neck.

She has been so willing to give him space and let him make the choice to trust her that she underestimated the impact of all this upheaval would have on how secure he felt. It makes her feel awful, and so, so guilty.

‘Henry,’ she murmurs, when the crying has died down a little. ‘I am going to be fine, and so is Emma. I am going to find her, and bring her back.’

‘But-’ he stops to sniffle. ‘I heard Gramps telling Grandma that the Blue Fairy said that what you’re doing is a suicide mission.’ She snorts.

‘The Blue Fairy should stop talking about things that she knows nothing about. Fairy magic can’t cross the worlds that way that mine can.’ He looks up at her.

‘Really?’ Her heart squeezes painfully in her chest at the tentatively hopeful look on his face. He wants to believe her, so badly. She runs a hand through his hair again and allows herself to enjoy that fact that this is the first time in over a year that he hasn’t cringed from her touch.

‘But how are you going to find her?’ His eyebrows furrow in confusion. Her beautiful boy.

‘You’re half her. And I could find you anywhere.’

 

\---

 

She didn’t lie to Henry. Not exactly.

Fairy magic is not that different from hers, not when it comes to matters such as crossing worlds.  Crossing realities is almost completely impossible using ordinary magic, and Regina would barely have been able to manage one trip if she had been relying on her magic alone.

But she has Emma’s magic, coated over her when Emma first disappeared, urging her along, through more and more worlds.

It feels like a slick, second skin, this wild elemental magic laid against her own tightly controlled power. It burns and itches and keeps Regina awake at night, feeling Emma Swan, of all people, pulling her awake and urging her to wherever Emma is.

It makes travelling through realities to find her so easy she can do it with a thought.

Another few days, and tens of jumps, and she is starting to pick up on Emma’s scent.

In one reality, where the curse has not broken yet, Regina is walking down Main Street when there is a tug in her chest and fire skimming across the tops of her arms.

 _She’s here_ , she thinks, and she sets off at a run, kicking off her heels and sprinting in the direction that Emma’s magic is tugging her in. She runs all the way to the edge of the elementary school before she sees Emma, starting to shine with the same light she had in the hospital.

‘Emma,’ she cries. She does not try for composure and she sprints towards where Emma is kneeling in the grass. Emma looks up, and Regina gets a glimpse of her swollen, bloodshot eyes before she is gone again.

Regina stays still for a second, swaying on her sore feet, before she stumbles forward to the space where Emma was, only a few seconds ago. The now familiar feel of Emma’s magic washes over her and she falls to her knees, an unconscious mirror of Emma’s pose.

Emma’s magic clings hard to her, choking her and rushing through her veins. It makes her feel powerful. It makes her feel unfettered and uncontrolled, like she hasn’t in decades. It makes her feel-

The imprint of Emma’s magic snakes its way up her neck and into her head, and her eyes snap open as she is granted a glimpse into where exactly Emma has been for the last four weeks. She stays as still as she can as Emma’s memories and thoughts flood into her brain, committing it to memory before it begins to fade away.

When the strongest of the magic has faded and she can breathe again, she opens her eyes.

‘Oh, Emma,’ she says, smiling for the first time in days. ‘Thank you.’

 

\---

 

She returns to a Storybrooke that is falling apart.

Geppeto’s store seems to have lost all colour, and she watches as it flickers in and out of existence like a badly tuned television set. She watches in mute horror as the store seems to collapse in on itself before it is back, twice as big and crowding for space. The two stores on either side crumble to dust before she remembers why she is back.

Mary Margaret’s apartment is still standing, thankfully, and she barges in to find Snow and Charming gathered around a table, arguing over a map. They jump when they see her, and Charming’s hand drifts down to his sword.

She ignores him, and sweeps up to the table.

‘I saw Emma today,’ she announces, to forestall any pointless talk.

Snow gasps.

‘‘Where is she? Is she okay?’

‘She looks fine,’ Regina says, pushing aside the image of a battered looking Emma staring desperately at her. ‘I think I know how to find her, now.’

‘How?’

She takes a deep breath before answering, content to enjoy the look of tortured suspense on both their faces, but she answers eventually.

‘I saw Emma, and she looked virtually identical to how she looked when I saw her last. I expected to find her-’ she cuts herself off, because she doesn’t think she can stomach their faces if she tells them what usually happens to people who cross multiple alternate worlds.

‘She looks healthy. Strong, even,’ she says. ‘I don’t think she’s spent much time in other worlds. I think breaking that the curse actually opened a fault line big enough to hide in. A sort of purgatory, if you will. She’s managed to keep herself there, for the most part, and avoid being dragged around for infinity,’ she finishes, begrudgingly impressed.

‘So where is she?’ Snow asks, gripping on to Charming’s hand.

‘She’s not anywhere, technically,’ She shrugs with a nonchalance that she doesn’t feel. ‘But I think I can find her.’ Emma’s magic gives a particularly strong tug, and she fights to hide a wince.

‘I can find her,’ she continues, ‘and attempt to reverse the damage caused, but I need to leave soon.’

The dazzling smile that Snow is throwing her way fades, slowly. ‘How do you know all this? And why are you telling us?’

She knows, because she can see what Emma saw

_Blinding white, and peace, and agonising moments where she was pulled into yet another world._

But she will not admit to these people just how (unwillingly) tethered she is to their daughter.

‘I am an exemplary sorceress,’ she informs them. ‘It was only a matter of time before I realised where she was. And I am telling you,’ she adds reluctantly, hating the bitter taste of the words on her tongue even as they leave her mouth, ‘because I need your help.’

 

\---

 

Half an hour later, she is ready.

Henry has joined them around the table, and he sits quietly as Regina explains what has to be done.

‘... your part in this is to keep Henry safe. Keep the town organised.’ This instruction does not sit well with anyone at the table. The Charmings, and Henry, have always been more suited to action than the sort of passive role that she is offering them, but they do not have a choice in this.

Snow has always been a good strategist, for all her faults, and she nods in reluctant agreement.

‘We’ll keep him safe,’ she says.

‘Very well, then.’ She carefully tucks the vial that Snow White gave her into one of her pockets and stands.

‘Henry,’ she says, and he comes to her more willingly than he has in months. She reaches out and arm and brings him closer. ‘Stay safe,’ she says, dropping a kiss on the top of his head. ‘ _Keep_ him safe,’ she orders Snow, when Henry has stepped away.

There is a flash of green lightning just outside the window as she disappears, and she prays that this will be the first promise she extracts from Snow White that she will keep.

 

\---

 

The magic pulls, hard, as she feels herself tugged through towards wherever Emma is.

Now that she knows where she is going she feels she can actually direct herself, slightly, and for the first time she feels like she is flying, as opposed to being dragged all over this world.

The alternates flick by her quicker than she can count, and before long she has come up against a barrier of some kind. Emma continues to tug her forward and the barrier resists her passing, and it feels like being pressed against a brick wall.

Another moment of agonising pressure, and she is though.

Her first impression of this place that Emma has carved out for herself is nothing. There is nothing to look at, or touch. There is only a curving, oppressive blankness that makes her want to duck her head.

There is nothing here to marvel at, to keep Emma safe, but Regina cannot help but be impressed that Emma was able to carve this out for herself at all, clumsy and amateurish as this place is.

She is so busy looking around, prodding this place with her magic and feeling the tendrils of the real world seeping in that she almost misses the sight of Emma, crumpled on what passes for a floor.

She can’t say exactly how far away she is, but she is out of breath by the time she reaches her.

‘Emma,’ she says. This place dampens her voice, and she has to almost shout to get her voice to carry. Emma doesn’t stir, and Regina tries again, shaking her shoulder for good measure.

‘Emma. Miss Swan,’ she says, desperately, and she nearly falls back when Emma finally stirs, turning under her touch and inhaling in a long, shuddering breath.

‘Regina,’ she croaks. Somewhere above them there is a noise like tearing paper and Regina struggles to sit Emma up as the ground trembles ever so slightly.

‘Did you know... there’s like a million of you out there. A million Reginas, just wandering around. Seems dangerous.’

‘Emma,’ she says desperately. ‘You need to help me. You need to focus.’

‘I don’t think I can do that,’ Emma says blearily. ‘I don’t feel so good. I think I have the flu.’

Regina takes a moment to stare at Emma, and yes, she has looked better. Her skin is sallow and the bounce has gone out of her hair. Her skin, in the few places where they are touching –Regina has given up on boundaries and has looped an arm around her waist to keep them upright- burns hotter than a human should.

Emma blinks, and sparks skitter down her eyes, stinging Regina before they disappear.

Maintaining this place has sapped more energy out of Emma than she has apparently, and Regina only hesitates for a second before she places her free hand over Emma’s arm and pours her own magic into her.

Her own magic, dark and sinous, rushes into Emma’s true love, wildfire magic. She expects fierce resistance but Emma only stiffens once before relaxing.

 Regina snatches her hand away when it starts to glow a soft blue, and Emma’s eyes begin to flutter open.

‘Regina,’ she says again, and Regina has never noticed just how similar this woman’s eyes are to Henry’s. They look exactly the same as his do when he has woken from a nightmare. It makes her hurt. ‘I don’t know where I am.’

They are not anywhere, but they don’t have time to discuss that right now. ‘You’re with me,’ she says finally. ‘And- Emma, you have to pay attention.’

Emma blinks again, and the dreamlike confusion is gone from her eyes.

‘What is happening.’ Her voice is sharp and angry, and Regina resists the urge to step away.

‘How much do you remember,’ she says instead, taking a moment to breathe when Emma looks away in thought.

‘Being pulled. Being here. I’ve been hiding here, I’ve been waiting...’ she trails off, and Regina seizes on her chance.

‘That was only a little while ago.’ She says. Emma’s eyes narrow.

‘How long have I been here?’

‘Just over a month. How long did do you think you’ve been here?’

Emma shrugs. ‘Not a month.’

Everything shakes. There is a scream from somewhere above them and they both jump. Suddenly there is a painful pressure on her arm, and she turns to see that Emma has her in a painful grip.

‘Henry,’ Emma says. ‘My- Mary Margaret.’

‘They’re fine,’ she says. ‘You need to hold this.’ She rummages around in her coat pocket and pulls out the vial that Snow gave her, sighing in relief when she notices that it is still glowing a light blue. She picks up Emma’s unresponsive hand and puts the vial into her palm, folding her fingers closed to keep it there.

‘What’s this?’ Emma is starting to mistrust her, she can see.

‘True love,’ she says, with only the slightest bit of a lip curl. ‘Two strands of your parents’ hair, freely given. You’ll need to hold onto that.’

Emma wrenches a hand away, and takes a step back. Regina’s breath catches, but Emma keeps a firm hold of the vial.

‘Why should I trust anything you have to say to me? You lied. You tried to put me into a coma. And now, what, you’re here to _rescue_ me?’ Emma is blazing now, fierce, every inch the woman who has made Regina’s life hell for the past year, but Regina can feel things unravelling around them and she cannot have a sparring match right now.

Her hand shoots out and pushes Emma a step back. ‘I am not here for you, you insufferable woman. I’m here to save my son’s life. If you care about him even a fraction of what you claim, you will _help me_.’ She is breathing hard, and she blinks rapidly to get rid of the tears in her eyes.

‘Regina.’ Emma’s voice is soft, and Regina strains to hear it. ‘You took away my parents.’

A million retorts rise to her lips, mostly revolving around the fact that she was not the one that shipped Emma to Maine, all alone, but in the end she just swallows and nods.

‘I did. And you will lose them again unless we finish this.’

There is a long, uncomfortable moment where Regina tries not to cry from frustration and Emma looks at the vial that is laying in her palm.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ Emma says, eventually. ‘I don’t know how to fix this.’

It’s easy,’ she says, as calmly as she can with her heartbeat thrumming in her ears. ‘I’ll help you. This is your magic.’

Emma nods, once, and Regina takes a step closer, taking up most of Emma’s field of vision and hopefully occupying all her attention.

You need to close your eyes,’ she says, and Emma does, still frowning. ‘Imagine the first fracture you fell through.’ Emma shivers, and Regina moves closer, again. ‘Can you feel it?’

‘Yes,’ Emma says lowly

‘Now, reach out and press it shut,’ she says. Emma’s hand twitches at her side and Regina pins it back down. ‘With your magic, Miss Swan.’

Emma releases a blast of magic that makes her teeth ache, but she clasps both of Emma’s hands, still holding on to the vial and the crystal, in hers, and concentrates. The vial is an extra source of magic, more powerful than anything Regina has up her sleeve, and Regina focuses on the crystal, using it to direct and multiply Emma’s magic to all the other faultlines.

The place that they are in starts to collapse as a result of Emma’s inattention, and the blankness presses in. She stumbles closer to Emma and collides with her front. Emma’s eyes snap open.

‘Regina-’

‘ _Concentrate_ ,’ she says sharply, digging her fingernails into the skin of Emma’s hand.

A faltering moment, and Emma’s magic starts up again.

Regina can feel the fault lines close, and each one sends a tremor all the way down to her toes, stealing her breath and making her head swim. He opens her eyes to see Emma’s face, shockingly close to hers, tense in concentration.

Emma provides the power, and Regina directs, and the universe heals all around them in great, sweeping loops. When the last piece is back in place she lets Emma’s hands go.

The universe is less permissive of unintended places such as this now that it is back together, and there is only barely room to stand if they stay close together.

‘Now what?’ Emma says, right into her ear.

‘Now, Miss Swan,’ Regina says, giving into the insistent pressure at her back and allowing herself to tuck closer into Emma’s body, ‘you take us home.’

 

\---

 

Someone screams as they appear in the middle of Main Street. Regina ignores whoever it is, and concentrates on untangling her fingers from the ridiculous mop that is Emma Swan’s hair. She tucks her hands into her pockets.

‘Well done, Sheriff,’ she says.

‘Whoa,’ Emma says. Her eyes are glazed and unfocused, and she raises her hands like she’s never seen them before. ‘That... that was...’

Regina remembers the intoxicating rush that came with her real use of magic all too well, and she looks around to give Emma time to compose herself.

The town looks the same as it always has, which is a relief. It means Henry is most likely fine. That thought makes her hands tremble just a little less.

‘I am going to check on Henry,’ she says. Emma looks up, eyes wide.

‘Where is he?’

‘At the apartment.’. Emma opens her mouth, probably to ask whether it’s a good idea for Regina to be at Snow’s apartment, but she seems to think better of it.

‘Let’s go, then,’ she says.

They walk briskly to the apartment. About halfway there Regina beings to wish that she had simply teleported them both there, but she is not sure she can spare the energy.

They both speed up as they get closer, and by the time they reach the door they are both panting.

‘Mary Margaret! Let us in!’ Emma shouts. She slaps her palm against the door for added emphasis.

When the door is open Emma is pulled into a fierce hug, and Regina stands just inside the door. Looking awkward has never suited her, so she focuses on inspecting her fingernails and brushing imaginary lint off her shoulders.

‘Mom,’ Henry says, startling her. His arms circle her in a vice grip, and she winces.

‘Hello, sweetheart,’ she says. She smoothes his hair back. ‘Were you alright while I was gone?’

‘Yeah.’ He pulls away. ‘But most of the glasses got broken.’

She is suddenly aware that the chatter in the room has died down, and the Charmings and Emma are staring at her.

She became used to spending some time with Snow and Charming when things were going to hell before, but the crisis is over, for the most part. Standing in Snow White’s kitchen like this is definitely not normal.

‘Well. This is lovely,’ she says, eventually. ‘I have to be going, though.’

‘Do I have to come with you?’ Henry asks. She takes a deep breath.

Henry has spent most of the last month with Snow and Charming, mostly out of his own choice, but also because she hasn’t been present enough to take care of him. But she’s back now.

He’s _your_ son, a little voice in the back of her head reminds her. The only person she has loved in twenty eight years.  She can’t lose him.

Except she can’t think of anything more likely to make him hate her than forcing him to leave with her.

‘You can stay here if you want,’ she says, bending down so she can look him in the eye. She smiles, and tries to focus on the good things. Her son is safe. That can be enough, for now.

‘Okay, then. I’ll see you soon, maybe?’

‘Of course, Henry. Whenever you want.’ She straightens, glances at Emma, who looks at her with an expression that makes her feel as if she is being backed into a corner.

To hell with saving energy, she thinks, closing her eyes and attempting to teleport away. But she is much more tired than she thought, and she can’t.

Emma’s eyes lock with hers, and no. She can’t be here.

She disappears in a flash of magic and lands in her office. The sofa in the corner is about as far as she can walk, and she falls asleep almost as soon as her head hits the cushion.

 

\---

 

 

When someone knocks on her door three days later, she rushes to open it.

 _Henry_ , she thinks, but it’s Emma.

‘Sorry,’ she says, like she knows exactly what Regina was thinking.

‘Why are you here?’ Emma ignores her question.

‘Can I come in?’ Emma looks expectant, rocking up on the balls of her feet slightly like she fully expects Regina to say yes, and she sighs.

‘Fine,’ she says eventually. ‘But you can’t stay long.’

‘What, you have plans?’ Emma snarks, but she follows Regina into the kitchen.

She pours two cups of coffee. ‘Cream or sugar?’

‘Both, please,’ Emma says.

When the coffees are done she hands Emma’s over. Their fingers touch, and she expects to have to recoil from the spark of their magic touching. But there is nothing. Only cool skin and a raised eyebrow from Emma when she lingers handing the cup over.

‘Your magic,’ she says.

‘Oh.’ Emma puts the cup down and stretches her fingers. ‘I don’t think I have it, anymore. I tried yesterday, and nothing.’

 ‘You can’t lose magic. It’s still there, somewhere. It will always be there. If you want to find it.’ Emma looks distinctly uncomfortable.

‘I don’t think I want to. I mean, magic. Other worlds. _Werewolves_. It’s not...’

‘It’s not you,’ Regina finishes.

They drink their coffee.

‘I dreamed of you,’ Emma says. She is giving Regina that direct stare that makes her want to look away, but she doesn’t, of course. ‘I knew you were looking. How did I know that?’

‘The hospital,’ Regina explains. ‘You should learn to keep your magic to yourself,’ she adds, aiming for spiteful but only partly managing.

Emma gives a loose, easy shrug, a _what are you gonna do_ kind of gesture, and she leans back on the high chair she is perched on.  It galls Regina, how comfortable Emma is in her kitchen, wrapped in her horrid blue jacket. But Emma has always had a special skill for making herself comfortable with things that belong to Regina. Her town, and her son, to name a few.

‘The kid wants to come for dinner tonight,’ Emma says. ‘And maybe stay the night. He says he misses home.’

Regina takes another long sip of her coffee so that Emma can’t see how pleased she is. ‘I’m glad to hear that,’ she says. ‘But I’m not sure why you couldn’t have told me all of this over the phone.’

‘I still feel like shit,’ Emma says. ‘Like an eighteen wheeler backed over me a few times. I just wanted to check that our resident evil-doer didn’t pass out from exhaustion and crack her head open.’ Regina arches an eyebrow.

‘Three days later? I’m touched.’

‘Yeah, well,’ Emma says. ‘I had stuff to do.’

‘More pointless posturing and badge waving, no doubt.’ Emma rolls her eyes.

‘You’re so goddamn prickly. You were so much nicer when we were saving the world together. Well, relatively nicer,’ Emma amends. Regina bristles.

‘Miss Swan-’

‘Emma. My name is Emma. You called me that before, in that place, remember?’

Regina remembers fevered skin, and magic like a livewire between them, and green eyes shockingly close to hers, but she doesn’t say that.

‘Emma, then,’ she says, instead. ‘Why are you here?’

‘I said-’

‘I know what you said. But you knew I was fine from the moment I opened the door.’

‘I’m here for Henry,’ Emma admits.

‘And?’ She is still standing, and it is easy to lean just a tiny bit closer and watch Emma’s free hand twitch.

‘I just need a minute,’ Emma says. ‘To not be the Saviour. Or a Princess. And I figure you’re the last person in the world who wants a Saviour around, right now.’

Regina remembers Snow White, and her grasping, ruinous affection, and she understands.

‘Just a minute,’ Emma says. ‘Okay?’

‘I’m the reason you didn’t have parents, remember?’ She cannot help testing Emma, and she is rewarded with a wince.

‘Don’t. Can I just, drink my coffee?’

Regina nods, silently, and she watches Emma grip the cup too tightly.

‘I’m gonna go,’ Emma says, when the cup is drained. ‘I have some paperwork to catch up on.’ Emma puts her cup down and turns to leave, and Regina finds herself sliding off her own chair and hurrying to stop her.

‘Emma. Wait.’ She reaches out and holds onto the slippery material of her jacket.

 ‘I do... I do feel a little under the weather. I could use your help cooking. And of course, you can stay for dinner as well.’

‘Okay,’ Emma says cautiously. ‘You sure?’

‘Yes,’ she says, only half surprised to realise that she means it. ‘I am.’


End file.
